


Souls Lost and Found

by Romaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2010-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romaine/pseuds/Romaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Students at Hogwarts are being drained of their magic, Luna hears a distinctive voice beyond the curtain, and Draco's seeing things on a wall.  They all add up to a mystery that takes Harry and Draco to a familiar island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Souls Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ H/D Glompfest 2010.
> 
> Betas: Thank you dysonrules, lwsa gang, and eeyore9990!!!

**Souls Lost and Found**

 

The evidence was before him, he knew it, he could feel it, but he couldn't understand it. Draco carefully flipped the pages of ancient script back and forth trying to reason out why his intuition was kicking in telling him that these words were important. He sighed and looked up at the images floating on the wall, a projection of the text's descriptions.

There was a familiarity to the water and the island that appeared in the middle of it. If only he could see the edges of the water, although maybe there weren't any, maybe it was in the middle of an ocean or sea. He sighed again as the image flickered and disappeared with the disturbance caused by a knock on the door. Draco waved his hand over the opened book and the stacks of other books and scrolls cluttering the table. "Come in," he said, trying not to let his frustration come through in his tone. It was more than likely Luna Lovegood, his co-worker, the only other Unspeakable near his age, and she didn't deserve his wrath. All of the other Unspeakables were ancient, even by wizarding standards, and they ignored him.

"Draco," Luna whispered as her eyes surveyed the room, registering that Draco had wanted his work to be private, "the Ministry is sending over an Auror to discuss the situation."

Draco's brows furrowed. Aurors rarely crossed over into their territory, but then the reality hit that he'd probably been crossing over into their area in this matter. He nodded.

"Did you want to speak with him or would you rather I did?"

A small smile broke over Draco's face. This wasn't a simple choice to make. Letting Luna speak to the Auror would cause a delay in their intrusion. If Draco talked with them then the crux of the matter would be revealed much sooner. However, that would likely mean working in tandem with the law enforcement. The former he preferred but the latter was more prudent given the urgency. "I—I will," he said.

"Harry will be here in a half-hour then", Luna added with a smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Luna!" Draco said as he flew off the stool he'd been sitting on for hours and stumbled towards the door. She was nowhere to be found in the long, white hallway; only a whiff of her primrose perfume remained. Draco's mind went into hyper gear as he thought about talking with Potter. It had been months since their paths had crossed and then it had just been at the perfunctory quarterly meeting the Minister held for all Ministry employees, which meant he could evade the stare of those green eyes. There were only a few people that he paid attention enough to know their eye colour, but Potter's had stayed with him since the day he'd denied it was Potter in his household. A perverse pleasure flowed through him; he knew that in some way he'd saved Potter's arse and therefore everyone else's. Draco shook his head, trying to focus on the then and now and push down his ego as it tried to stretch its folded wings. What should he reveal to Potter? Maybe he should let Potter tell him what he knew first. Would an Auror do that? Not likely, he thought.

Draco sat back down on the stool and removed the cover spell. He poured a cup of tea and once again looked at the vision on the wall before him: a rock island jutting up in the middle of dark blue waters. He leaned forward as if it would help him see the island in greater detail. It didn't. He wished he could get a bird's eye view but all that was in the text was what could be seen by boat... or by shore. Merlin, could it in the middle of a lake? Could the author of the poem have been standing at the waves' end?

He closed the book; the image disappeared. The book's cover was cracked with age. Beige spider lines criss-crossed the brown flaky leather almost obscuring the title: Prophetic Penance. The author's name was nowhere to be found. It had taken Draco a few days to confirm that all of the poems and essays had been written by one person. The differing styles had fooled him at first, but there was clarity of emotion that showed through each piece and gave it away. It had to be written by a fellow Unspeakable. It wasn't always a given that an Unspeakable had written the books locked away in their private library. However, any other author would have had too much ego not to have at least left a symbol giving them away. He sipped his tea, wondering when he'd come to the point of striving not to care if he received credit for an accomplishment or not. Luna's face appeared in his mind's eye. Yes, she'd been the one who had taken his hand in hers and led him on the journey to the Ministry a decade before. She had appeared on the Manor doorstep and insisted he was needed to be working with her at the Ministry. He'd been baffled and part of him had wanted to slam the door on her but another part, another part had stirred with curiosity and pride that she thought he might have something to offer the new magical administration. He had been gobsmacked and practically skipped with her as she took him down the hallway to the Department of Mysteries. Even in his wildest dreams hadn't imagined becoming an Unspeakable.

Luna had brought him to the same room he now sat in, his personal room; it was a small stark room painted in bright white. It had no windows. "What do you see?" she'd asked. Draco had thought she'd been joking, but given the enormity of where he was and what it could mean, he had examined the room more carefully. His eyes had become adjusted to the extreme light. The walls shimmered and then he saw there were shades of white, and an outline of a something he'd only heard about from his father. He had to blink repeatedly to keep it in focus.

"There' a billowing curtain hanging from an arch," Draco had finally responded after a few minutes.

Luna reached up and hugged him. "You are the one. I knew it. I knew the voice said you'd be the one. Welcome to the Department of Mysteries, Draco Malfoy. You are now an Unspeakable," she said in a lyrical tone.

Draco remembered Apparating home, stunned at the news and all Luna had shown him that day. There had been no interviews or security measures he had to pass or documents that had to be signed. It was her word and that was all that was needed. He knew he didn't deserve her kindness and faith. She had told him that was silly. It was years later she had told him that it was a voice from beyond the curtain that had told her to bring him to the department. It had been another year before he had learned that it was his mother's cousin, Sirius Black, who had spoken the words.

Further ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door. Once again, Draco hid the books and scrolls. The room returned to its whiteness. His stomach turned as he knew who was on the other side of the door. It wasn't that he detested Potter, Potter just freaked him out a bit. There was a power emanating from him that wasn't just magical, it was a self-confidence that Draco wished he could have. It wasn't his ego that wanted it but the small part of him that was still frightened of strange noises in his house and boggarts in the closet. And... and the part of him that wanted to be accepted by others. He rose off the stool as the second knock sounded.

"Auror Potter, come in," Draco said as he opened the door. He conjured up another stool, which Harry looked at askance. With a wave of Harry's hand the stool became a comfortable stuffed chair.

"Sorry, Unspeakable Malfoy, but my arse couldn't take sitting on one of those today."

Draco swallowed hard, refraining from commenting on why that might have been. He doubted it was because of the first thing that had crossed his mind. He watched Potter gingerly step over to the chair and sit down. Even though his Auror robes were a bit dishevelled, the Head Auror still presented an air of authority.

"Tea?" Draco asked as he lifted a white ceramic pot, which sat upon his desk along with a variety of cups he'd collected over the years. Harry nodded and then leaned forward, adding three sugars. Draco winced, preferring his own without. Potter lifted the cup and then looked around the room.

"Nice painting," Harry said as he took a sip. "Can't say I could stand having that image on one of my walls, though."

Draco almost dropped his cup of tea. "You can see it?"

Potter's eyebrows lifted. "Yeah. I'm not supposed to? It's an exact image of the arch and black veil in the pit."

"Colours? You can see it in colour?" Draco asked flabbergasted. It had taken him two years to see pastels and only in the last year could he see the curtain image in all of its natural colours.

"Yes," Harry said, "but I'm not here to discuss what I can see and cannot see. I'm here to learn what you know about the magical drain from the Hogwarts' students."

_Drain_ , yes that was the perfect description of what was happening, Draco thought. He pushed aside his annoyance that Potter had dismissed his questioning about the curtain. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know how strong Potter's magic was anyway. However, he wasn't quite ready to share what he knew, what he surmised, or what he was struggling with. "Ah, and here I was thinking that you were here to tell me what you knew."

Potter released a sly grin that put Draco at unease.

"It's going to be like that, then. Would you prefer that I escort you up to my office and we talk there?"

Draco attempted to control the shiver that shot up his spine. The last time he'd been up to Aurors' offices was directly after the war. The interrogations he went through still gave him nightmares. He hadn't been tortured, but relaying all that he'd been through and all of the poor decisions he'd made was humiliating. In the end, because for once in his life he'd been truthful, it had been Potter who put in the petition for Draco to be released without prejudice. They rarely spoke to each other after that and never was that subject brought up.

"No," Draco blurted out. "I—I meant that I thought we could share what we both knew. After all, we're looking at this situation from different perspectives."

"You're right, Malfoy," Potter said to Draco's relief. Potter then removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The redness made his green eyes stand out more. "It was just a long night and I'm on edge from lack of sleep."

"I'm not sure I need to know about your personal life, Potter," Draco said, before he could stop himself. He clutched his teacup, waiting for the comeback.

Potter laughed. "Nothing personal about it. It was supposed to be a quick charity Quidditch game with the Cannons, but the damn Snitch didn't show up for hours. I haven't' stayed that long on a broom in years."

"Ah, so that explains your sore arse," Draco said, "and here I thought it was because of different kind of ride."

Harry laughed again. "Careful, Malfoy, you're treading into territory that I'm sure you don't want to hear about."

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, you're right, let's get back to why we're meeting," he said, but in actuality he would have loved to hear about Potter's escapades. While he'd matured in many ways over the past decade, his love of gossip wasn't one of them. And while situations were hinted at in the _Daily Prophet_ , there was never any evidence of Potter's dalliances with witches or, more interesting to Draco, wizards. "So the _drain_ as you so aptly put it. It's getting worse from all reports I've heard."

Harry shifted in his chair and then put his glasses back on. "Yes, Minerva had to send home another six students this week, which makes two dozen this month."

"And those that are left, any signs of depletion? Any idea why it's just those not of age? I haven't heard anything about any magical creatures being affected, have you?"

Harry snorted. "For an Unspeakable, you certainly speak a lot."

Draco could feel his cheeks warm. "I can be silent if you like, Potter."

A bark of a laugh erupted from Harry. "Malfoy, there were days I would have preferred silence from you but today isn't one of them. I'll answer your questions and then have some of my own. Okay?"

"Fine," Draco said.

"The drain is strongest on the younger students. Almost all of the first and second years are showing signs. Most of the dismissals have occurred in those two years. However, the three youngest of the third years have also been sent home. Those of age in the seventh year are not showing any affliction. What I find of interest is that children not old enough to attend Hogwarts seem to be okay. However, those returning home are not recovering, they're basically Squibs."

"And the magical creatures?" Draco asked again while contemplating what Potter had just told him.

"No effect."

"Hmm, interesting," Draco mumbled though he hadn't expected a different answer. He stared at the painting of the curtain on the wall, it was billowing. His attention was quickly diverted when he saw Potter reach for the book he'd been reading. It was unnerving that his concealment spell hadn't been strong enough to hide it from him. He watched Potter examine the cover and then set it back down on the desk. Potter then reached into his robes and pulled out a pair of gloves. They weren't leather like the Aurors usually wore as part of their standard uniform, but cream coloured stretchy ones. He'd never seen the likes of them before. It took Potter a minute or two to put them on. It was the first time Draco had ever noticed his hands and fingers. There was nothing special about them, but he found it amusing that his nails were bitten. It was the only sign he'd seen of a weakness since their youth. Potter was either afflicted by nerves or impatience. His guess was the latter.

The gloves continued to hold Draco's interest. He appreciated their use as he saw Potter flip through the book without his fingertips sticking to the pages but also being able to have some traction so the pages turned easily. "Who's the author?" Harry asked without looking up. He skipped right by the poem which Draco was sure related to the situation.

"An Unspeakable... which means I don't know."

"But you do think this book might hold the key?" Harry inquired, lifting his gaze from the book and onto Draco.

"Not sure it's a key, but at least a direction that should be explored," Draco replied without blinking.

"Why? Does the text explain the title? Is there some old spell or curse that has been triggered?"

"Hell if I know if anything was triggered," Draco said, and then gulped that words had come out that strong. Harry seemed nonplussed about the language used so Draco continued. "The poems and essays deal with what happens when magic is used to hurt someone or something. But the penance part seems to be more self-inflicted than spell initiated."

"And the prophetic part?"

Draco shook his head, knowing that Harry had taken it to mean prophecies. "Prophetic in this case just means predictive based upon deducible evidence, not a divined prophecy like a Seer would give."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched side to side. Draco wanted to grin as he could see Potter trying to understand what he was referring to. "Cause and effect?" Harry said partially as a statement and partially as a question.

"Yes, and like cause and effect, you cannot say with certainty that the cause will always have the effect or that the effect was precisely initiated by that cause. It can appear that way but further investigation might reveal another variable involved."

For the second time in their meeting, Harry burst out laughing. "Malfoy, you lost me, and I'm too tired to play the game of pretending I know what the hell you just said. Just tell me if you know why you think this book or part of this book has anything to do with what's going on at Hogwarts?"

"Hand me the book." Draco huffed. He wished he had more to show Potter. He was going to sound like Trelawney in saying that he had a feeling about the island poem. He turned to the text and handed the book back to Potter. "Here, read this. It's all I have. Every time I try and move on to something else this book, and specifically this poem, _Island of the Innocent_ , calls me back. I've been studying it for the past two weeks," Draco said in frustration.

After looking at the three pages involved, Harry snickered and handed the book back to Draco. Draco felt his defences rise; he was sure Potter was laughing at him. "Malfoy, I'll need a translation to understand what the poem is saying," Harry said as he methodically removed his gloves. "I'm good at reading people's intentions but never had much time to pick up subtlety in writings. I leave that to Hermione."

The corners of Draco's mouth turned up. "Don't read much?"

"Exactly. Most of my reading is legalese. I'm not one that you'd find curled up with a book by the fire."

Draco hoped the redness hadn't returned to his cheeks. An image of Potter curled around him by the fire shot through his brain. Where it came from he wasn't sure. He'd never even considered kissing the man before... smacking him, yes... shagging him, no.

"Malfoy? The translation, please."

"Oh. Well it's about an island, which has disappeared, but where a cry is heard that makes heaven weep." Draco finished and looked at Potter who was looking at him. Their eyes locked. It was the first time he'd held that gaze and could try and read what emotions Potter was feeling. He tried to clear his mind and not let any of his own show through.

"And...," Harry said.

"And... and that's about it," Draco said.

"How do you know there is a cry if the island has vanished?" Harry asked, picking up his teacup. Draco was sure the cup was only lifted to hide a disbelieving grin. He was about to answer when Harry continued. "The poem is three pages long so I'd assume there has to be a bit more."

Draco sighed heavily. "Fine, there's a bit more but it will be easier to show you than for me to interpret the text for you."

"Is this an Unspeakable spell you'll be using?"

Draco smirked.

Harry continued to stare.

Draco raised a brow.

Harry returned the gesture.

"Fine, don't tell me. Go ahead," Harry said.

Draco turned to the pages of the book lying on the table and slowly waved his hand over the text.

"Whoa, that is fantastic!" Harry said and moved his chair closer to Draco while turning to face the wall behind him. The image of the curtain faded and an island of rock sprung forth. Dark waters were lapping at its shores. Both of them gazed at the scene in silence.

"Azkaban," Harry mumbled.

"No, it's not Azkaban, Potter. Do you see the prison?"

Harry turned, facing Draco directly. "This is from before the prison was built."

Draco's eyes widened. "You're serious? How do you know?"

"Somewhere in the archives are drawings of the island during the construction of Azk..." Harry said, stumbling over the word and then his eyes widened.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Could be a coincidence, but do you know where the curtain used to be located before it was put in the Department of Mysteries?"

Draco searched his memories. It was strange given the magical object's importance to his working at the Ministry that he'd never researched it. "No."

Harry grinned. "On the island. They used to exile criminals to the island and when the isolation became too much they would walk through."

"Fuck," Draco whispered and then grimaced in thinking about the desperation the wizards and witches must have felt. "But what does that have to do with Hogwarts, though?"

"Dunno, but I'm not dismissing your feeling that it is. Luna is usually right about many things and she values your opinions."

A sense of relief flooded through Draco's body. Tension, tension he'd been feeling for the past few weeks dissipated. Despite it being Potter, it was nice to have someone accept that there might be a relationship, even if it was because Potter trusted Luna's judgement of him. The moment of calmness didn't last.

"Can we go down and see the curtain?" Potter asked.

Draco thinned his lips as he contemplated how to tell Potter that he was scared shitless of going down into the pit. The ruffling of the tattered material by a non-directional breeze put him at unease, but even more was the pull he felt to investigate the other side. Luna claimed to hear voices chattering; he never did.

"Yes," Draco said and stood up abruptly; he was determined that his fears wouldn't rule him.

Harry rose slowly; the colour seemed to drain from his face.

Draco stepped towards him and reached for Harry's right upper arm, steadying him. His fear switched from facing what was down below to witnessing Potter's confidence wane. "You okay, Potter?"

Harry's left hand wrapped around Draco's wrist. "Yeah, it's just I haven't seen it since I was a kid... since..."

"Since Sirius went through," Draco whispered.

Harry nodded and then straightened up. "Bloody hell, it's been a while since something affected me like that."

Draco released his grip on Harry but Potter only tightened his. "Just give me a moment," Harry said.

"We don't have to do this now," Draco responded. "Do you want some more tea?"

Harry chuckled. "No, but I might need something stronger afterwards."

"Deal, Potter. I'm not exactly fond of the place either."

Harry let go of Draco's wrist and gave him a quick grin. "Well then, let's get this over with and then I'll buy the first round."

**********************

Potter's gasp echoed through the rectangular room when they entered it. Draco stared down at the black curtain hanging from the crumbling arch. Even in the dim-light he could see its subtle movements.

"They used this for executions until a few decades ago," Harry whispered, "until the Dementors were brought to Azkaban. Now, as you know, they remove the prisoner's magic while serving their sentences."

Draco wrapped his arms around himself as the still cold air permeated through his robes. He stepped down onto the bench below. Potter followed. The curtain bellowed. Both of them held steady.

"What's that smell?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose. For the first time since entering the room, his gaze broke away from the curtain and looked over at Harry. Potter had withdrawn his wand. Draco reached into his robe pocket and fingered his own wand.

"Smells like the ocean," Harry responded and stepped down to the next stone layer. The curtain stilled.

Draco followed Harry down the remaining benches. His thoughts drifted to what it must have been like facing the arch with the room filled with those wanting to see him go through. The curtain swayed. Draco became entranced with each movement of the black cloth. The scent of salt and seaweed strengthened. He wasn't fazed when Potter put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and then moved forward towards the arch. Draco stood his ground. The pull was only slight from this point, but he knew it would increase with each advanced step. He swallowed hard when Potter reached out and touched the stone. Small pebbles crumbled away.

"Can you hear them?" Harry asked in a quiet tone.

Draco took a deep breath and then walked across the stone floor until he stood next to Harry. He closed his eyes, trying to detect any noise. Unnerving silence permeated the room. "No, but I never have before. Luna is the one who can hear them." He opened his eyes. The curtain blew towards him. Ragged edges caressed his face. He felt himself leaning towards it. Strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled him back. Draco shivered and stepped back further bringing Harry with him.

"What were you doing?" Harry asked with his voice raised. The question reverberated around the room.

He couldn't speak; the words were stuck in his mouth. He could still feel the pull. It was only Harry's hands securing him in place.

"Malfoy! Answer me!"

Draco shook his head. A freezing gust of wind blasted from the curtain pushing him against Harry. The ocean scent permeated the room. The tip of Draco's tongue licked his lower lip, it tasted of salt. Harry's fingers dug into his biceps. Draco wanted to protest but then he saw the wind circling room; rock crumbs and dust blew along the floor and began to circle into a vortex. Harry removed his hands for only a moment and then his arms wrapped around Draco, protecting him with his Auror robes. The overwhelming feeling of security impressed his thoughts. Through the fringe whipping across his face, Draco looked at Harry; the green eyes showed no sign of fright but only a hint of concern.

"I can't Disapparate," Harry said.

A warm bed with flames from the fireplace flickered in Draco's mind. He hadn't thought about what Harry would think if the spell had worked and they had ended up on his bed. He needn't have worried. The Disapparition failed.

"Harry!" a voice called out from across the room. Potter's eyes widened. Slowly, against the force of the wind, Harry turned them both to view the arch. Blasts of wind poured out from curtains. The black material was stretched horizontally, only its fringe had time to flutter before the next onslaught of wind came. Draco didn't recognize the voice, but he was sure Harry did as his jaw muscles were pulsating.

"Harry! Please. I need you. We need you."

"We?" Harry yelled back.

"Harry, now. You must do it now!"

Draco toppled backwards as Harry released his hold and began to run against the wind towards the arch.

"Potter! No!"

Harry reached the curtains and they wrapped around him, pushing him through. Draco struggled to his feet. The thought of leaving the room was momentary but then the winds switched and pushed him forward. He stumbled as his booted feet couldn't catch up with the pull of what was behind the curtain and the wind pushing him through.

****************

Draco screamed as his surroundings morphed from a dark enclosed room to outside surrounded by a heavy mist. All he could see was his feet and that he was teetering on tip-toe on the edge of a cliff. His arms waved like a windmill to force his body backwards, despite not knowing was behind him. Stormy waters far below came into view and wind rushed up from crashing, white-frothed waves. It helped him become stationary for a split-second. Hands grabbed his robes and then arms wrapped around his waist, saving him from certain death.

"Malfoy! Why the fuck did you come through?" Harry yelled next to his ear while moving them both away from the edge. Draco took a few deep breaths of the salty air. His heart was pounding but the panic quickly resided as warmth from where Harry's chest met his back and penetrated through the robes. It was as if he drank a Calming Draught. Draco turned his head to the side; his nose brushed against Harry's wet cheek.

"I had to come. It's wanted me for years. Are we dead?"

Harry chuckled. Draco could feel the laughter vibrate against him. To his surprise, Harry turned on him, keeping his hold around his waist, their faces only inches apart. The mist began to dissipate. The land around him was hard stone with jutted rock formations piercing through.

"No, I don't think we're dead or even close." A quick grin and twinkle to Harry's eyes appeared. "We're not starkers."

"And why would be?" Draco asked.

Harry didn't respond right away. His eyes seemed to search into Draco's for some sign before he spoke. Draco had no idea what sign he should give Potter to let him know that it was okay to tell him. He was about to remind him that he was an Unspeakable and that he could be sworn to silence when Harry spoke up. "Previous times, when I should've died, I've woken up naked."

"Previous times?" Draco mumbled. "There's been more than one?"

The green eyes seemed to penetrate further into Draco's.

"It's okay, Potter," Draco said without hesitation. "I can't tell anyone — I won't tell anyone."

Harry's eyes widened and brightened behind his glasses.

"Kingsley believes I must be part cat," Harry said. Draco almost laughed as a vision of Harry with tail and ears popped into his thoughts. It was a nice vision.

"How many lives have you used up?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. Drops of water flung onto Draco's cheeks. "Counting times I should've died, more than nine."

"Ah, that luck thing, then," Draco said. They both jumped as thunder crashed overhead and lightening speared the only tree in sight, splitting it in half.

"Come on, let's find some shelter," Harry said and slowly slid his arms from around Draco, his hands resting on his hips for a moment longer than they should have.

Draco just nodded and followed Harry as best he could through the rain that started to come down in a deluge. Despite the extraordinary situation he and Potter were in, he assumed they were on the island that hosted Azkaban, but sometime in the past. His thoughts were trying to make sense of Potter's gestures. Could there be any other interpretation to keeping his arms around Draco or sliding his hands over his hips as he removed them? Draco strained to think of one because the alternative was to believe that Potter had an interest in him, which he found incomprehensible. There was no way the Head Auror would fancy his previous classmate and Death Eater, who attempted to make his life hell. But as he watched Potter stop at a rock formation where there was a slight overhang, pull out a small packet from a pouch, and toss it on the ground only to have it shape into a wizarding tent, the idea that it possibly could be true caused a jolt of excitement. A jolt stronger than he normally felt when thinking of another wizard.

"Shit," Potter said as he pulled back the flap of the tent and then looked over his shoulder towards Draco. "No wizarding space. There's room for two but it will be cosy."

Draco tried to increase the space with a wave and flick of his wand but it had no effect. A thunder clash right overhead made his bones shake. He felt his hair stand on end. He looked straight up, knowing this was the end.

Hands not belonging to God whisked him out of the way and dragged him into the tent.

"Are you daft, Malfoy? The bolt was coming your way."

Breaths were hard to come by. He'd only been on the island for a few minutes and already Potter had saved him twice. It was getting embarrassing. For the previous ten years, his life had been interesting but predictable. Danger was something other Unspeakables dealt with. His work was researching subtle things. The closest he'd come was in studying spontaneous magic in Muggles. Miracles were what they called them and higher spirits were given credit. It was usually a witch or Muggleborn wizard who had never been claimed by a wizarding community. Once in a while, though, it was the land or water that was embedded with natural magic. Those always piqued his interest the most, but still they weren't dangerous.

"No, I'm actually quite brilliant, Potter. I just froze. Thank you for dragging me over the filthy rocks. Look, my robes are shredded."

With one swift move, Potter's red robes were removed and tossed his way. "Here, Unspeakable Malfoy. Take mine."

Draco laughed and waved them off. He looked at Harry quizzically, not quite believing what he was wearing. He lit his wand to get a better look. The spell worked. A purple shirt with green leaves and yellow flowers made him blink. It looked like Potter was ready for some tacky vacation in his Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans with a hole in one knee. "Put it back on, Potter, you're ruining my image of you."

"Really?" Harry said, slipping the robes back on. "I would have thought it would be closer to the image you had of me." He then sat down cross-legged and pulled a teapot and cups from the same small pouch which held the tent. "I was supposed to be going to Portugal today for a short holiday but Hermione was feeling poorly and Ron needed to stay with her. She's due in three weeks."

"Potter, I didn't ask for a detailed explanation, but I must say the Portuguese are lucky you didn't make it given that outfit. By the way, what else do you have in that pouch?" Draco asked as he lowered himself to the floor of the tent and followed Harry's lead, crossing his legs. There was just enough room for the two of them to sit comfortably.

"Stuff; stuff I might need to survive a week or two, if necessary. Would you like something stronger in your tea?" Harry asked as he withdrew a silver flask and unscrewed the lid, pouring a healthy amount in his cup.

The scent of Old Ogden's filled the small tent. "Absolutely," Draco answered. "It could only help in surviving this experience with you."

Harry poured the same amount into Draco's and then added hot black tea. "Give it up, Malfoy. I can tell when someone is watching me with interest."

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter. I'm not in the mood, anyway. I believe we're here to solve a mystery not having some tryst in a tent on Azkaban Island."

"So if this is Azkaban Island then where is the prison? Or do you think we are in a different time?" Harry asked in a tone that clearly stated that he had his own opinion on the matter.

Draco shifted his legs, they were beginning to cramp. Harry scooted to the side as much as he could and patted the empty space next to him. "Stretch out Malfoy, I promise not to get too excited."

Draco hoped the blue light from his wand would cover the blush he felt rising to his cheeks. He hadn't expected Potter's self confidence to extend to sexual advances, or whatever Potter was playing at. He stretched out his legs, trying not to touch Potter's robes. "It could be an alternate reality," Draco said and sipped his tea. He almost choked on the amount of alcohol in it. It was stronger than the Old Ogden's he was used to. Leave it up to Potter to have a special brew.

Harry's face lit up. "There's alternate realities? Have you studied them?"

Draco laughed. "No, you idiot there isn't such a thing." He controlled laughing harder when Potter scowled at him. "I can only guess that we're back in time, which might mean that the arch is somewhere on this island."

"Ooh, that's right it would be and that would mean we would have a way back. I hope the storm clears up soon and we can find out why Sirius' voice was calling me."

"You don't expect to find him here do you?" Draco asked. He hoped that wasn't the case. Despite being cleared by the Ministry over a decade before, he'd heard too many stories from his mother over the years and Snape's muttering back at Hogwarts. But then it was Sirius, according to Luna, who said she should recruit him as an Unspeakable. Maybe the reason why would be revealed.

"No!" Harry said emphatically. Almost too emphatically, Draco thought, as if Potter wasn't allowing himself to indulge in that possibility. Potter was looking away from him towards the sealed tent door. Draco took the moment to study Potter's face. His jaw was twitching again and then there was a visible swallow. Draco hoped it didn't mean Potter was going to start bawling. That he couldn't handle. He needed Potter's self confidence. He tapped Potter's bum with his foot.

"So where do you think we are?"

Harry snapped his head back and appeared to have recovered from his morose thoughts. "It's only a guess, but I believe we are between worlds of life and death."

The hot drink spilled on Draco's robes as his fingertips slipped from the cup. "Now you're trying to put one on me," Draco said, waving his wand to clean up the mess. The simple cleaning spell worked. "I thought you said we weren't dead."

Harry set his cup down and then reached across and removed Draco's slipping cup from his hand. From there, Potter's hands reached out and took Draco's hands in his. Draco wasn't quite sure what Potter was up to but he didn't object despite an old feeling welling up in him that wanted to snipe at Potter and ask _what the hell?_. But the serious expression on Potter's face stopped him, or maybe it was the warmth he felt every time Harry touched him.

" Malfoy, we're not dead. I think we're just visiting. I've never had someone with me before while in this type of state. So either you're dreaming or I'm dreaming or this is a way station. Usually I choose what it looks like so this must be someone else's place and for some reason we're being allowed in."

He couldn't think of anything to say. He needed time to digest what Potter had said. He wished he was back at the Department of Mysteries with the old tomes. Then it struck him, maybe it wasn't just the arch and curtain filled with magic, maybe it was the island, too. Yes, that would explain why the prison was built on the island. Not only did the isolation curtail escapees but the island itself might have some hold. "The—the island is magical," Draco stuttered. "It could be a magical place that infiltrates both worlds."

Harry's brows rose. His fingers absentmindedly played with Draco's as if it helped him think. "That would make sense, but then why don't the current prisoners in Azkaban move on if they chose?"

Draco grasped Harry's fingers with his own, ceasing the movement. "It depends on how it works. The arch and curtain may be what allows a person to move into the after-life but I'm thinking that the island might have a hold, not only on people but their souls."

"Hmm, but then we're left with the situation at Hogwarts. What's the tie in?" Harry asked. One finger broke away from Draco's hold and began stroking the back of Draco's hand.

Draco was jolted out of his deep thoughts. His nerves fired up his arm and then through the rest of his body with each gentle caress. While earlier Potter's touch calmed him, this time it aroused him and not wholly in a convenient way given their proximity. "St—stop," he said and moved his hand away, resting it on his leg.

"Shit, sorry, Malfoy. It's just that I can't believe you're physically here. Touching you makes it real," Harry said and then dropped Draco's other hand.

"Potter, touching me might make things more real than I can handle."

Harry burst out laughing. "Malfoy, if I could handle you then I'm sure you could handle me."

"Quit talking about handling. You're not helping the situation. Merlin, are you always randy on your missions? It's a wonder you haven't been cited for harassment."

"Are you feeling harassed?" Harry asked as he leaned towards the opening and unzipped it enough to peek out. It was only then Draco noticed that the rain was no longer pelting the tent. It was stupid, he thought, that he was disappointed when he saw a streak of sunshine come through. They'd be leaving.

"No," Draco replied and then stood hunched over in the tent ready to exit.

"Too bad," Harry said as he crawled out.

Dark clouds had moved to the east. Overhead blue skies and a blaring sun gave them the opportunity to examine their surroundings.

"The prison is located in the centre of the island. I assume that is where we'll find the arch," Harry said as he shrunk his belongings and put them back in his pouch.

"It's so quiet," Draco said. "I'd expect there would at least be some birds."

"Animals probably recognise that this isn't a normal place to be. Come on lets go see what danger awaits," Harry said pulling on Draco's sleeve.

Crossing the island was troublesome. The stony ground was uneven and rocks were easily stumbled upon. Steam rose from collected rain puddles as the noon sun evaporated every last drop. Harry hadn't said much since they'd left the tent. Draco wondered if that was part of his training or if he didn't have much to say to Draco. As they trudged on Draco thought of dozens of questions he'd like to ask Harry, but was hesitant to speak. He was lost in his ruminations when Harry's hand shot out in front of him, bringing him to a quick standstill.

"Can you hear that?" Harry whispered.

"No" was on Draco's lips when he heard the cry. The same cry he'd read about in the poem. The poet had said it was an animal. Draco thought it sounded more like a child screaming. "Yes," Draco said.

"Follow me and don't say a word," Harry said, "and quiet your footsteps."

Draco flicked his wand at his boots. The level of the crying rose and fell, but the tone struck something deep inside of him. It was heart-wrenching, as if the child was lost and all hope was gone. He stopped in mid-step, remembering where he'd heard something similar and had seen a child who made such a desperate sound. Back at Hogwarts, when Crucio was used during detention and Crabbe and Goyle had the pleasure of casting it. It was a first year Ravenclaw. It was her scream that broke through his wall of non-emotion. He remembered stepping out of the room and finding Snape. They never discussed it but Draco had become cognizant that the Headmaster was protecting the students as best he could. When things got too out of hand with the younger ones, Draco would find him.

Harry's arm around his shoulder brought him out of his daze. "You okay?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah, but we should hurry."

*******************

They manoeuvred around rock formations, which blocked their view of what was ahead. The child's cries had diminished but with every step it sounded closer. Potter's hand jerked in front of him again. A finger was pressed to his lips. He peeked over Potter's shoulder and his heart stilled. A man, younger than him, was sitting on a flat stone near the arch. He was surrounded by ethereal children, dozens of them. He was talking to the group in a calming voice. Upon his knee sat a young girl with tattered clothes. Her head was buried into his shoulder. "It's okay, love, you'll see your mum soon."

Harry turned and faced Draco. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"Your godfather," Draco said and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. Harry nodded and then squeezed his eyes shut.

"Harry, come on out. It's okay," Sirius said, looking in their direction. "We've been waiting for you and Draco."

Harry and Draco stepped from behind the rocks hiding their presence.

"Sirius!" Harry cried out as he ran towards him and fell before his knees. He placed his head on Sirius' free thigh and wrapped his arms around his lower legs.

"Harry, Harry," Sirius said as a mantra; his fingers stroked through the windblown black hair. Draco walked to the edge of the circle. Translucent children looked up at him in awe.

"Who are they?" Draco asked.

Sirius looked over to Draco. His hand remained on Harry possessively. "They're the innocents. Families were sent here in unison when a parent had committed the worst of crimes. They didn't have enough magic for their souls to escape the island."

Harry raised his head. Sirius's fingers left his hair and traced down Harry's cheeks. "And you? Why are you here?"

Sirius smiled. Draco gulped, seeing the brilliant smile. It was a Black trait, one his aunt had, but never showed without vengeance behind it. Sirius' was genuine and happy. "I saw them huddled together when I came through. I'm guessing I was the last to have gone through until you two."

"So you're not dead?" Harry asked with such a hopeful tone that Draco winced. He knew the answer before Sirius responded.

"Harry, I'm sorry but I am dead. You know I'm dead. You brought be back with the Resurrection Stone. I just chose to stay here and take care of them until a way could be found to send them on."

Draco couldn't bear looking at Harry, seeing the disappointment. "And you've found a way?" Draco asked.

Sirius lifted the small girl from his lap, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before setting her down with the other children. "I believe so, and that is why I called for both of you. A few months ago, the children started becoming more visible. Magic seemed to be pouring into them. Not enough, though, to move them to the next step. I believe that your magic can help them break away from the island."

It didn't make sense to Draco. Why him? What did he have to offer?

"Sirius," Harry said. "The magic is coming from Hogwarts. It's draining magic from the youngest there."

"Shit!" Sirius said. "I didn't know. But how is it happening?"

"We don't know," Draco said. "We thought the answer might be here,"

"Wait!" Harry said and then looked around at each of the children. "I think you mentioned the answer a minute ago, Sirius, the Resurrection Stone."

"What is... Oh Merlin, Potter don't tell me you had the three Hallows."

"Yeah, I did, but I dropped the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest. I never thought anyone would find it."

Sirius shook his head and grinned at Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, that's very interesting and I'll want to hear the story over that drink later today, but for right now I want to know why you think it's causing all of this."

Harry manoeuvred so his body rested against Sirius' leg. The children moved in closer to the both of them. The youngest one crawled on Harry's lap. Harry showed no hesitancy in cradling the baby. "I'm guessing that a student must have found it. They didn't know how it worked, but managed to hold it and maybe turned it once or twice."

"And not turning it three times, nor having anyone in mind to bring back, the magic reached for those who needed it," Sirius said.

"And the student probably showed it to others," Draco added. “But why the younger ones?”

Sirius’ hand rose to chin, rubbing it. “I bet it has to do with their untamed magic. It must be some combination of having some control over their magic but not fully structured control.

"Maybe," Harry said. "It's all conjecture. We won't know until we return and go to Hogwarts."

"Can we go to Hogwarts?" a boy asked. Draco surmised he was the oldest of the group.

"No, Henry. You'll be going to someplace much more spectacular and your mother will be waiting."

Two girls pulled on Draco's robes. Draco looked down and then understood what they wanted. He sat down and they climbed onto his lap. "You'll help us?" the older of the two asked. Her eyes widened with hope.

"I will try," Draco said and patted her silver hair. His gaze moved from her to Harry and Sirius. "Why me, Sirius?"

Sirius chuckled. "You're a survivor, dear cousin. Out of all the Blacks, you’re the only surviving child."

"You've been working on this since then?" Draco asked.

"Yes. I'd heard you were intelligent and dedicated to working things out. It was impressive what you did with the Vanishing Cabinets; you transported people from one place to another. I was hoping you could do the same here."

Draco's blood froze. Those memories were ones that he had tried to push into oblivion.

"It's okay, Malfoy," Harry said. "It's in the past."

Sirius nodded. "Yes, it is."

"So what do we need to do?" Harry asked.

"You need to take them back with you through the arch. I tried, but since I've already moved on it had no effect. I have no magic."

Harry looked up at Sirius. "And where will you go?"

"To where I belong, with my friends, waiting for you... patiently."

*****************

The split-wood crackled in the fireplace. The warmth, though, didn't compare to the heat he felt with Harry's body surrounding him. It had only been one week since that day, but Draco knew that this would be eternal. Harry's arm wrapped around him, holding him tight. Soft, full lips trailed up and down his neck and shoulders. He'd expected a quick and dirty shag after they had drank too many rounds that first night. Potter had paid for them all. Instead, though, when morning light made an entrance, Harry was still there, in his bed. The first time that night they had fucked, but in the morning it was done with feelings Draco thought were for other people.

Draco sighed with pleasure as Harry's hand trailed down his chest and stomach until it reached its destination. Potter liked holding Draco's cock whether it was hard or soft. They'd fallen to sleep that way a few times. Now it was soft, but only for a few moments. Draco glanced up at the mantle before rolling over and facing Harry. The Resurrection Stone was up there, resting inside a Golden Snitch. Harry had given it to him after retrieving it from a shocked second-year Hufflepuff. Harry said that he couldn't be trusted with it; there were too many people he'd be tempted to see again. Draco guessed Sirius would be on that list. He'd been afraid that their final goodbye on Azkaban Island would have torn Harry apart, but it hadn't. Harry was overcome with joy that he'd finally got to say a goodbye properly. Sirius wasn't ripped away from him this time, but left with a smile and words of love and promises of future meetings. Draco had no one he wanted to bring back.

"Can you reach the lube?" Harry asked.

Draco stretched for it, reaching it with his fingertips. He opened the jar and swiped a generous amount out with two fingers. Potter would be requiring a cushioned chair tomorrow.

_finis_


End file.
